Addictive
by Enide Dear
Summary: Tea, cigs, flying...Cid has an addict's personality. So what happends when he's stuck on the ground with no tea and the last cig is burning out?


Title: Addictive  
>Author: Enide Dear<br>Pairing: Valenwind, Cloudxmore people than you can shake a stick at  
>Rating: uh…see warnings<br>Warning: uke!Cid rape fic?  
>Summary: Vincent helps Cid with a problem and Cloud used to lead such an interesting life…<br>A/N: Inspired by this pic: .com/gallery/#/d2sm4ar

Cloud bolted out of the Highwind's machine room, curses and swearing flying after him along with a wrench that narrowly missed his spikey head. Skidding to a desperate halt he managed not to bounce into the dark and brooding chest of a significantly taller Vincent Valentine who neatly caught the flying wrench in mid-air. The gunman turned the oily tool over curiously, glancing at the ex-Soldier panting next to him.

"He's crazy!" Cloud exploded. "He won't listen to reason - he won't even listen at all! - and he chased me out with the worse swearing I've heard since that time Sephiroth ran out of shampoo in the middle of a five week field exercise!"

Vincent looked solemnly down on him and blinked but the wound-up blonde barely noticed the lack of sympathy.

"All I asked was if he could work a little faster! I mean, we're stuck in the middle of nowhere here! We're running out of supplies!" Cloud flapped his arms uselessly in the general direction of the dark depths that led into the belly of the airship. "And I though Genesis used to be snappy and short-tempered, especially that time when Zack and I tried out his dresses. Do you know how hard it so to walk in high heels?"

Vincent sighed and flipped the wrench over in his hand, trying rather hard not to listen.

"I'll deal with it."

"And Angeal could be really prissy about us using his sword as a surfboard…what?" Cloud cut himself short in mid-rant.

"I said, I'll deal with it." Giving the younger man a rather fatherly pat on the shoulder, Vincent started down the stairs leading to the engine room, trying to ignore his leader having a heated discussion with the voices in his head.

"I know, Zack, I remember, I won't play pranks on Tseng ever again, that man has no sense of humour, but I really do think that somewhere deep inside he to thought that exchanging his deodorant for glitter spray was funny and how were we to know that he used it as an intimacy deodorant as well…."

The airship's machine room was deep in the belly of the Highwind and down here it was dark, cool and a bit cramped - enough so to make Vincent feel quite at home after 30 years in a coffin. He located the captain/mechanic easily - it was only to follow the cursing, and the trail of oil stains and rusty bolts.  
>Cid was on his knees when he found him, leaning over to reach some strange engine part deep in the depths. Vincent took a few moments to admire the view before he cleared his throat politely. There was a loud *bang* as Cid jumped and smacked his head in a pipe. Seconds later a red face appeared, blue eyes flashing with wrath and a toothpick stuck between his teeth.<p>

"If that spikey-headed little moron sent ya, ya can jest piss off! I'm working as fast as I can here, but my baby jest won't fly!" Cid rubbed the back of his head where a new ache was forming to compete with his headache. "Ya think I wanna be stuck out here with ya jerks? I ran out of cigs yesterday and taday I had my last cup of tea! Trust me, ain't no one wants ta get the hell out of here more than I do! And ya can tell chocbo head that…"

"You need sex." Vincent cut him of, solemnly handing him the wrench.

Cid almost swallowed the toothpick.

"I..what?" He floundered, anger suddenly replaced with shock.

Vincent took a step forward, closing in on the dirty pilot. Cid clutched on to his wrench as if it had been a chastity belt.

"You have an addictive personality, chief. I've seen it before. Such things might take different forms. For some it's food, or work, or drugs and alcohol." Vincent loomed over the smaller man, gently but firmly taking the wrench back from him and placing it on a pipe. "For you it is channelled to slightly healthier areas, such as caffeine and tobacco." His knee nudged in between the wide-eyes pilot's suddenly very wobbly legs. "But the cause is always the same." Metal claw caught tanned wrists and held them like a vice. Soft, cool lips nibbled oil stained neck. "Unresolved sexual tension."

A while later, Vincent walked out of the engine room, tucking in his black shirt and readjusting his gun belt. From behind him the sound of cheerful whistling and enthusiastic clanking could be heard, and seconds later the soft purring of a fine tuned engine. Vincent gently poked Cloud on the shoulder to wake him from whatever lala-land he was currently occupying.

"..I'm not sure what happened to Kunsel, but if I see him again I'll ask him if he wants to go nude chocobo riding again, beacuse those feathers were awfully soft and…oh, Vincent. You scared me." Cloud blinked a few times, trying to get him mind in to not just the correct moment, but the correct body. "What is that sound? Is that the Higwind? Is it working again?"

Vincent smiled a little and glanced down behind him.

"It was a fairly simple problem." He nodded. "Cid only needed some help to clear out the pipes."


End file.
